Twisted
by NickeltheRed
Summary: Wherein Wendy wakes up one day inside a birdcage and is surprised to find out who the owner is. A twist to the Disney film.
1. Pet

-.-.-.-

_Don't fret, precious I'm here _

_I won't let the Boogeyman come_

_Pay no mind what other voices say_  
_They don't care about you, like I do, like I do_  
_Safe from pain and truth, and choice, and other poison devils_

_Just stay with me_

_._

—Pet (Count Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums)

by The Perfect Circle.

-.-.-.-

As Wendy woke from a long deep sleep, she knew something was amiss as soon as her eyelashes made their first flutter open.

This was not her own lady's room, her bed, or her ceilings. She pushed herself up in what appeared to be a large neatly-crafted nest of feathers, animal skins, and jungle leaves. But that's not what worried her most. What really grabbed her main attention was the _bars. _Long thin gold-plated bars curved around and high above her, coming together into a fancy knot at the top.

"Oh my."

She was in a cage! It was a person-sized _birdcage_.

And the reddish wooden walls beyond the bars were familiar as well, but not in a pleasant way.

She was somehow back in Neverland, trapped inside of the _Jolly Roger_, the ship she hadn't seen in person since a full year ago. And she was currently all alone, still wearing nothing but her new white-laced nightgown her mother bought her, with her curls undone and hanging loosely over her shoulders.

Judging by the classy quality of the bedchamber, Wendy assumed this had to be the late Captain Hook's quarters. She rescanned the walls, musing softly to herself, "...If Hook _was_ eaten by Tick Tock, then who on earth would ever want to bring me here—?"

Though right then, her ponderings were answered by the mock-crow of a rooster flooding her ears and a very recognizable boy came gliding into view, landing inches from the bars. "Hullo, Wendy Bird!" he greeted. "I'm glad to see you're awake."

"Peter!" she gasped in relief, thrashing the quilt aside and took a few wide steps forward to lean against the bars. She pressed her mouth delicately between the gap. "Are we truly back in Neverland?"

"We're above it."

Wendy turned to the window, finally noticing that the horizon lacked the watery line of the sea...in fact, there was no horizon. Just clouds. "The _Jolly Roger_ is anchored in the sky?"

"Hmhm." He hummed proudly, shifting into his trademark stance; feet spread out, his fists going to his hips. "Faerie dust can work wonders, remember?"

Wendy reeled her thoughts back in from the excitement of seeing him again, breathed in deeply, and gave him a second glance over. He was dressed head to toe in_ scarlet_—not forest green—a captain's hat rested on the crown of his head in place of his old feathered boy-cap. Besides that, there was a particular glint in his spirited green eyes she'd never noticed before. (Not to mention, he wasn't trying to pry open the cage to recuse her.)

"Peter...," she cautiously said in return, "you've changed."

"I've only changed where I make my camp, silly. I'm still that cocky and clever boy who always wants to have fun!"

Wendy felt her chest grow heavier with confusion and so many more questions arose in her mind, that she didn't even quite know where to begin. "Where's Tink?"

"Banished," claimed Peter. "For good this time. She was always just a little tiny troublemaker, wasn't she?"

"And the Lost Boys?"

"They're all gone, too. Drowned in the sea, actually. They complained about moving on the ship with Hook's crew most of the time once I named myself Captain. Pretty soon, they were ruining all the fun I thought we were having! So I gave each of them each a chance to fly off the plank one day, but sadly, they didn't have any happy thoughts then. That was a pity."

Wendy stared at him for a moment or two. She heard no _genuine_ regret in his voice as he told her these things. The Peter Pan she had known honestly could be a bully to the Lost Boys, bossing them around, demanding special treatment from them, but deep down she sensed Peter had never meant any real fatal harm. That was just how boys acted some days, even with their good friends.

Although now Peter's usual carefree energy made her hesitant, _because_ he seemed satisfied to be by himself.

What happened to the boy?

She wet her lips quickly. "What about...the rest of pirates, Peter?"

"I fed them to Tick Tock as well. It was funny how he was still hungry after eating all of Hook...well, _Smee_ is still alive, if that really counts for anything. He came crawling back here, pouting like a hound dog without an owner to follow. He's now my private chef on deck. Besides him, there's only a few of us left in Neverland overall these days. I promoted Tiger Lily to be my First Mate. She controls the new Hunting Parties through the jungle below when I'm up here. Any other Tribal-man of hers who defies me is thrown onto Marooner's Rock. Some of them still don't play by the rules of my games."

"Peter, but _why_ are you doing all this?! Why are you doing _this_ to me?" Wendy motioned eagerly to her confinements.

"Because...I don't want you to go away again, Wendy Bird. No more growing up for you, I think." He waved his finger at her briefly. "It's been different since you left, I swear it on my sword and dagger. I kept seeing you in my dreams on and on and again, and then every day after I woke up, I had this big, big, dark and cold hole inside of me. It me angrier and madder and madder..." His tone ranged swiftly from pure frustration back to a youthful, innocent frenzy. "...and I knew _you'd_ be the one to fix it and make it better! So, first I made you this lovely nest, then in the quiet of the night, Smee and I sailed through the stars to fetch you."

Despite his evident joy, Wendy could only suppress a whimper now. A dark and cold hole, indeed. That's what she felt swelling up inside her too.

Shrugging, he added, "Besides, even a boy can know how to cage a pretty bird like yourself. You can sing for me every night, and we can go out and fly all day...just the two of us here from now on! No more mothers or fathers, no more going home. It's wonderful, isn't it?"

_Oh, Peter!_

Wendy's sense of fear expended and a helpless dry sob escaped her. Her family wouldn't ever know... It all seemed somewhat twisted now.

Peter faltered for a moment, as if shocked by the sound. He blinked, then floated up closer to her cage with soothing features, nearly nose to nose with her.

Using all the charm he knew he could muster, he made this dire promise to her:

"Aw, don't worry, Wendy Bird. No grownup can hurt you now. I'll keep you safe and protected, and won't let you go without a fight. I'll never, never, _ever_ let anyone find you again."

And he never did.

* * *

**Obviously I was in the mood to do something a little different this time around. 'Cause e****very now and then, I do "enjoy" reading other Dark!Disney fics I find...besides we all know the older original fairytales are a bit twisted anyways :P**

**I haven't decided if I'm going to add on to this one or not.**

**But I am thinking about writing other separate oneshots like this, for each of my leading favorite Disney movies.**


	2. Break Me

**I would like to note that this story will be in 3 parts, so yes, one more chapter will follow to conclude the tale!**

* * *

-.-.-.-

_I never thought I'd change my __opinion again _

_But you moved me in a way that I've __never known _  
_ You moved me in a way that I've __never known _

_But straight away you just moved __into position again _

.

—Break Me, Shake Me

by Savage Garden

-.-.-.-

Eventually Wendy had fallen into this habit of sleeping the mornings away and then stirring for the first time during the afternoons.

Peter tossed at night and unbeknownst to him, this kept her awake for hours, leaving her eyes stressed and weary. She could hear him muttering all sort of nonsense under his breath as nightmares racked his system. Her cage remained just feet away from Hook's—Peter's—bed after all. And because of the bars, going to his side and soothing his nerves was obviously was never an option for her. Calling out to him and telling him he was having night terrors wouldn't be the best idea either. Pointing out his flaws was not that wise. Peter Pan, happy or angry, never took self-criticism very well. God forbid if his childlike pride would be wounded.

On the other hand, Peter didn't seem to mind that she had her own sleeping schedule. He never tried to wake her up on purpose, anyhow. He'd simply leave at dawn to do whatever he wished until he returned to check in on her. If she happened to be awake, then he'd unlock the cage door and allow her to move freely about the _Jolly Roger_.

Wendy hardly (never) left the ship on her own though, considering how high it was from the shores below.

She...did try jumping from the plank once. Well, it was a twice actually.

She wasn't exactly suicidal; not really, nothing quite like that. But on those days—the boredom from being left behind had made her mind so hazy and bubbling with cabin fever, so desperate for a change of pace and live contact besides Smee—that she just did it to see what would happen. How far could her own dare take her?

She hadn't perished from a romantically tragic fall yet. And of course Peter'd seen to that. As reckless and senseless as it was for a proper young lady to leap of the plank so plainly, Wendy didn't expect to die. She _knew _it wasn't going to happen on his watch.

During both jumps, she had free-fallen from the ship for a mere few long seconds before Peter suddenly glided into sight to catch her, maneuvering himself flat beneath her so that she landed straight on his back, making her wrap her arms around his tunic for support.

_"If you wanted to fly," Peter chuckled against the winds, soaring them in loops around the Island, "...all you had to do was say so!" _

Thus, in spite of Peter being naïve in his growing madness...or whether, he simply refused to acknowledge it, Wendy supposed overall that she had been well taken care of so far. Peter had never physically harmed her deliberately like a real pirate probably would have done. He made sure that (ironically) she was handled in the highest regards! She was treated like the official Girl Queen of Neverland.

The whole birdcage complex _was_ still a bit extreme, aye, and Peter's usual fondness for her currently boarder-lined possessiveness and a strong desire for ownership.

But—

Every day Wendy reminded herself that _the circumstances_ _could always be_ _worse_…since the cage, also according to Peter, was _supposed_ to be a bird's safe haven. It was used to keep her sheltered from other greedy hands, not to punish her. Her nest inside it as well was so large and so lovely at the touch that it looked like something a Sultana would lounge across in a desert palace. The feathers weaved around its round edges had apparently come from the Never Bird itself.

And honestly Wendy wasn't that frightened anymore. Time had traded in her fears for acceptance and a newfound level of determination. She still had _her_ sanity, which meant she was not as blinded as Peter had become. She did notice how strong of an impact her presence had on Peter: almost like the pull between the sun and the moon, they tugged each other back and froth, but at the same time they stayed in place maintaining the fragile balance.

Why wouldn't she fix him at his request...why wouldn't she be the one sure thing he could cling to in this absurdity? Why not enable him, if enabling him was what could cure him? If just being near him kept the shadows creeping across his heart at bay, then why not prevent him from falling farther down into the abyss? She had forever to try; for abandoning Peter now would do more damage for _both_ of them than good.

Besides, if Neverland's timeline was to consume her life again anyway and the Outside World was moving on without her, what would be left there to return to?

Perhaps her home wasn't the best place to yearn for the any longer. What if death and old age claimed her entire family by the time she managed a way to escape the Island? If so, then she'd be helpless and alone in London City most likely, with no mother to teach her, no father to instruct her, and no brothers to support her. Would a cold-hearted gentlemen take pity on her? Force her to marry him, order her to bear his children when she would request falling in love first?

Wendy was certain that if she couldn't become a wife and mother properly…then she wanted nothing more to do with that sort of life.

Oddly enough, Peter had saved her from pains such as that.

_I'd be trapped within my own regret and old brittle bones sooner or later there. Either way, there's a cage waiting for me. _

From thereon...she made her capture her actual choice. It was the most comfortable of two unstable futures.

Neverland is where she would stay.

* * *

**PLUS, IF ANY OF THE READERS WHO FAVORED THIS STORY WANT MORE, I DO NOW HAVE ANOTHER "TWISTED DISNEY" COLLECTION STARTED ON MY PAGE. It's called _Other Twisted Tales._**

**The first chapter is for _Beauty and the Beast._ I've got a whole list of Disney movies I chose to work with each chapter, ranging from additional classics like _The Little Mermaid_ and _Mulan _to more modern-ish ones like_ Monsters Inc._ and_ Frozen._**


	3. Of the Fire

**Here it is. The Finale. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

-.-.-.-

_I'm under your spell_

_from Heaven to Hell_

_the in-between is so enticing_

_Hold me down_

_Bring me peace again_

_Hold me under_

_Take me with you to the bitter end_

**.**

—Out of the Fire

by Digital Daggers

-.-.-.-

This place...this New Neverland, as Wendy opted to call it, had become place of fire and ice, just like she and Peter had.

They ruled over it all.

Reclining up against Peter's master feathered pillows now, with her blue slippers on trimmed with ice crystals, Peter was in a calmed state laying there with her, his chest resting upon hers. She cradled him, pulling the quilt more comfortably around him as if she were a mother rocking a fussing babe to sleep, but, then again...she was _not_ quite his real mother, nor like his sister. She was Peter's keeper, his personal overseer, his main caretaker, his cohort. She was the misty sky and chilling sea to his lightning strikes and active volcanos. His equivalent, his other half in power, his balancer in their Nevermagic.

Her fingers raked through his wild red hair, gently pulling out any loose twigs she found tangled in it and she traced up and down the devilish point of his ear.

He clutched her sides in return a little too unnecessarily tight, as though he was dreading that some horrid beast would barge onto their ship at given moment and pry him away from her.

Peter was still funnily jealous like that.

Wendy sighed silently to herself and shut her eyes; she could feel his rugged boyish nails nip at the flesh of her waist through the thinned fabric of her nightgown.

_Mine. Mine. Mine. Don't go home. Do not steal from me. _

What a silly, curious, gentle child had she been once, back when the fears of aging hadn't caused her soul to freeze over yet. Free and delighted she was the first time her toes had touched the Never shores. Love and terror and joy poured out of her so abundantly then, Wendy had almost lost herself to the enchantments, had nearly forgotten her mother, her own birth name.

_Bird. Caged bird. Sing, please, Pretty Bird. Please sing. _

As it was always with her and Peter. A trivial cycle of take and keep, save and covet, only giving so much at a time but never surrendering completely until the days started to blur, and the timelines stopped in place, trapping them on the inside.

It was a game so real, so obsessive, a game so magical, a game so—so—philosophical—that it costed the other their stability to stand alone.

She had tried to outgrow Neverland in the past and longed to become the woman her Mother Darling had always been.

_Oh, Peter! Oh, boys! We're going home!_

His left hand over her hip slightly adjusted itself. His palm was filled with soft pulsing heat against her pure snowy skin, melting her from within.

His heartbeat steadily echoed hers.

Wendy could still recall being at home that night, being reunited with her mother and father; the sight of the _Jolly Roger_ slipping further and further into the clouds high above the nursery window, gliding over the moon, sailing away from London. Far, far away, from her.

_No, wait, Peter, come back. Stay? Please, stay with us? I'll always believe in you, Peter Pan!_

She soon heard his breaths even out and his hold on her slackened. Slumber was beckoning her as well. Wendy's eyelids felt heavier than before, and the ice spreading inside of her renewed a fresh cool coat along her veins since Peter's fiery touch was no longer awake and blazing.

Wendy let go and fell into a strange dreamland, wherein her mother looked withered, white-haired and breakable, and she was kneeling before her as Wendy remained exactly how she was, childlike and pretty with youthful pale cheeks. Her mother crawled forward gracelessly, sobbing, and encircled her arms around her slim waist. And Wendy...felt very little in response. She wasn't deeply moved by the elderly woman who once gave her life weeping on her, soaking her royal gown with salty tears. Wendy's starlight-blue eyes were still frosty and unyielding as she coaxed her mother's hands back down, creating more distance between them. There was pity, but not desperation.

When she woke, her girlish mind had pieced together something she hadn't really grasped until just then.

She cherished this New Neverland, where she was known and prized by Peter in Scarlet, who had eventually unlocked new traces of Nevermagic than ever before, and had passed on the rest through her. Teaching her how to use it, tying her to him, fastening their existence together.

Because Mary Darling was just her father's wife, just their mother.

Though Wendy Darling wasn't even grown, and she had became a Queen. The girl of all girls. Wives and mothers were beneath her.

Little Hades had come to claim his young rose-sweet Kore, fleeing back to the mystical place which would reflect their own natures for an eternity.

_My Bird. Wendy-Bird. Sing, Pretty Bird. Come and rest here with me, Pretty Bird. _

And they would remain, forever and ever, and ever, never leaving, never parting, living in Winter then Summer, then Winter again, on and on and on.

* * *

Time raced by them, and yet it didn't.

They were always shifting with the moons and their emotions, but everything stayed the same.

They were the most fierce child-monarchs the Isle had ever created.

Peter played his flute and the streams turned to blood and boiling lava. He flew in the air with a flaming passion. Sparks and ash rained down in his wake.

Wendy, who was like a crisp Yule morning reshaped into female-form, would appear so divine when she walked on water below the ship...her footsteps sedating the crashing waves to ice over beneath her. And whenever she sang, matching Peter's musical notes perfectly by heart, all living things in her reach would be lured to a frigid sleep on the spot and they'd rouse with blue lips and quivering knees, forever feeling cold on the inside, cursed to not know the meaning of warmth ever again after that.

They dwell on the transparent edge of reality and make-believe. They make the impossible look unreal. They put the illogical to shame. Love and hate blender together to birth a brand new sentiment, the only of its kind. Up is sometimes down and night is sometimes during the day.

In other words, their world must be _experienced_ before it can ever be _explained_.

For it was theirs. Only theirs.

* * *

Wendy's elegant porcelain arms were reaching out in front of her to feel where Peter was resting under the dark evening shadows and as soon as she made contact with his familiar chest covered in skeleton leaves and acorns, she drew him closer. Peter allowed her to do this, and thus once again, they slept innocently bundled together in his thick wooly Captain quilts, merely sheltered by each other's embrace.

"Know this...," she reminded him in low whispers, as she normally would, "You are mine, Peter in Scarlet, just as much as I've been yours."

She could distinguish the hint of Peter's amused smirk pressing up into her hairline.

"Aye, it may so be, Bird."

Besides, as their history would become legend, what was Peter really without a Wendy?


End file.
